Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, then I would have no trouble paying for college.

A/N: Thanks to Hestia Hesperus for beta-ing this for me!

Goodbye, Privet Drive

By LupineMoon

Although it was close to midnight, the seven occupants of Number Four, Privet Drive, were in various states of wakefulness that hot summer night. Each person was absorbed in their own thoughts as the clock ticked down the minutes to July 31st, the day every person in the house was awaiting, with eager anticipation and various other emotions. The tension was almost palpable.

In the bedroom at the end of the hall, Dudley Dursley tossed and turned, unable, for the first time in years, to sleep. He was scared, very scared. Tomorrow, his freak of a cousin was turning seventeen, and in his world that meant that he was of age. Of course, his freaky friends were already of age and could do that—Dudley couldn't bring himself to say the word—but they did not hate him as Dudley was sure his cousin did.

Besides, his dad had threatened to chuck them out of the house if they did anything to the Dursleys.

But tomorrow, it wouldn't matter what any of them did, for his cousin and his freakish friends would leave for good. For the first time in his life, Dudley regretted being mean to his cousin. Until now, it was just something that he did because he could. But now, he was scared, scared of what his cousin could do to him, or probably would do to him tomorrow.

Dudley shuddered at the memory of the few times he had personally encountered magic. These encounters had been the only times that he had truly been unhappy during his life. The first had been the time they found out that his cousin had been a freak. That oaf of a man who had come to pick his cousin up had pointed a pink umbrella at Dudley when—POOF! a sharp pain and a second later, Dudley had a tail! A tail! He had never been so frightened and shocked in his life. The man had taken that freak to buy things for that…that school. And Dudley was left with a pig's tail that had to be amputated at the hospital.

The next time he encountered magic was a couple of years later.

Some freaks had come to pick his cousin up to go to see some sport or another that his kind played. A group of redheads had come blasting through their fireplace in their living room, destroying it completely. Then two of them, a few years older than him, had dropped some candy on the floor.

Dudley hadn't been allowed to eat candy all summer, so when those brightly-covered toffees all tumbled out onto the floor, he just couldn't resist. Without thinking of the consequences, he lunged at them and popped them in his mouth—they were delicious!

Then, a second later, something went wrong—very wrong. His tongue had started to… grow. Dudley started flailing and gagging, terrified. He couldn't breathe! His mother tried to help, but of course there was nothing she could do. Then his father had started yelling at the man who had come to get his cousin. The man had waved his stick around and cured Dudley. For once he was grateful of magic, that it had cured him so quickly and effortlessly.

But of course, if magic hadn't existed, he wouldn't have been in the situation in the first place.

His final and most terrifying encounter with magic had been just two years ago. It was evening and he and his cousin were walking home when something happened. Even now, looking back on it, Dudley still wasn't sure exactly what had transpired that night.

They had been walking back home and arguing when suddenly the air turned icy and fog surrounded them. He'd yelled at his cousin to stop it, whatever he was doing, but it just got worse. Suddenly he heard strange sounds and began remembering…terrible things. He remembered the time he first became aware of the fact that he had to "share" his parents' affection with someone else. He remembered the time at the zoo when the glass had disappeared and he had ended up in the snake's cage; he remembered the time when his cousin had gotten his letter….

And just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. That batty old Mrs. Figg and his cousin had dragged him home. He vaguely remembered the ensuing conversation and that his father wanted to chuck his cousin out of the house, but his mother had stopped it after getting a letter that told her something. If Dudley remembered correctly, it had talked to his mother.

Another one of those freakish things their kind did.

Dudley shook his head to clear it of those frightening thoughts. If only magic hadn't existed, then none of this would have happened. If only his cousin hadn't come to live with them, things would have been normal. His terror temporarily forgotten, Dudley was content in angrily blaming his cousin for all of his family's problems.

But still he tossed and turned.

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In the room next door to Dudley's own, Petunia and Vernon Dursley lay awake, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

For the first time in her life, Petunia was worried about her nephew. Tomorrow he would become a man, and would have to face his destiny. He would have to kill the man who had killed his parents and so many others…or die trying.

Petunia knew well the implications of what would happen if her nephew did not succeed. Though she loathed admitting it, Petunia really had remembered what Lily had told them of this—Voldemort—while Lily had been in school. He had terrorized her sister's world and killed people like her and Petunia for the sole reason that they weren't pureblooded wizards and witches.

But Petunia was also worried for her family. When Harry became an adult, the blood protection would no longer exist; she, her husband and her son would become vulnerable. They could become targets to these people. And Petunia was sure that there was no way that they could be protected. She was sure that Harry wouldn't even give them the option. For the first time in her life, Petunia regretted treating her nephew as she had done. Maybe if she had been kinder, he would offer to protect her and her family. But now…

Well...she would find everything out in the morning.

Next to his wife, Vernon Dursley also lay awake, but his thoughts ran along a different track. Tomorrow would be the day that is freak of a nephew would leave and his house would be normal again for the first time in sixteen years. Why they had taken him in in the first place Vernon would never understand, even if it had kept his nephew alive. Who cared that some evil freak was after him? It was his own fault.

But tomorrow, it would all be over. His nephew and his abnormal friends would all leave and Vernon would never see them again.

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In the last occupied bedroom, three young people sat on the floor talking. Harry Potter glanced at the clock, eagerly counting down the seconds until he would be an adult and finally leave. Ron and Hermione likewise were eagerly waiting the time when they too, could leave this place.

It was eleven fifty-five.

But with the eager anticipation came a realization and fear that he hadn't wanted to think about. In just a few more minutes, Harry would have to face his destiny. And Voldemort would be able to find him.

"Five more minutes, Harry!" Hermione said, "Then I can finally give you your present."

"Yeah, mate. You'll finally be of age and can use magic! Maybe we could pull a trick or two on them before we leave…." Ron said, grinning wickedly.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, scandalized. "We can't curse the Muggles, its illegal! I don't care how horrid they were, it's not worth getting Harry chucked into Azkaban!"

"But I can dream, can't I?" Harry asked as he glanced again at the clock. Three minutes.

"Yes, but…well, we do have some of Fred and George's candy. That's technically not against the law…" Hermione began rummaging around in her trunk.

"Hermione! You're…you're actually telling us to prank them?" Harry asked, shocked. "You just said not to do any magic!"

"I said don't do any magic with a wand, but if they don't detect it, then it doesn't make a difference. And even if you are of age, they can tell if you do magic on a Muggle. But, if it's something like candy where the magic's already been done, then I don't think it really counts. Remember, when Fred and George gave your cousin that candy, you didn't get a letter, right?"

"Oh yeah. That was great!" Harry smiled at the memory.

"And I missed it," grumbled Ron "I miss everything."

Harry stared over at the clock. One minute…fifty seconds…thirty-five…fifteen…ten — he wondered if Hermione was going to give him a book this year like she did nearly every other year before — five…four…three…two…

One.

Harry let out a whoop. Hermione and Ron both smiled, and Hermione hugged him with exclamations of "Happy Birthday!" But as the three shared grins of happiness, they realized how tired they were.

"Let's go to bed and open presents later, I'm exhausted. We can open them at your house, Ron…someplace happier," Harry said as he got up to look out the window. "We've only got a few more hours of freedom. And then…"

Hermione interrupted. "Go to bed, we can worry about that later. Good night Ron, good night Harry."

"Good night" both boys responded as the three climbed into their own separate, makeshift beds.

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The next morning dawned clear and bright like any morning on Privet Drive. No one outside of number four had any indication that nothing would be the same again.

Like they had every morning that summer, Harry, Ron and Hermione slept until Aunt Petunia came to rap on the door to tell them that breakfast was ready. Harry hadn't been forced to do anything this summer. Though he knew that the reason was that his aunt and uncle didn't want to upset him, or cause Ron and Hermione to curse them, Harry was grateful to have more free time on his hands.

That day, for the last time, the three headed down to the kitchen for their quiet meal. After breakfast, they headed back upstairs to pack up their last minute belongings. Then they levitated their trunks down the stairs and into the kitchen, to be met with the astonished faces of the Dursleys.

"Now, see here, boy! There'll be none of that—abnormality—in this house!" Uncle Vernon said. He was starting to turn purple…something he had not done in a long time.

"But you see, Uncle Vernon, I'm of age now. And that means that I can do magic—and you can't stop me." Harry said.

He relished the look on his uncle's face and smiled faintly as Hermione and Ron grinned at him. Then Ron turned a menacing glare on the Dursleys and they shrank back ever so slightly. Dudley looked as though he wished the floor would swallow him up.

He continued, "So…anyway, I'm leaving. But before I go…I'd like to thank you. I'd like to thank you for making the last sixteen years of my life a living hell. I would like to thank you for treating me worse than the dirt under your shoes while you catered to the every whim of your son, who won't even be able to survive the real world because he doesn't know how.

His voice grew harsher as he admonished his caretakers of sixteen years. He was going to leave them and never look back. The least he could do was enjoy what little time he had left with them before walking out of their lives forever.

"I on the other hand," he said with a dry smile that held no humour, "might die tomorrow, murdered by Death Eaters or Voldemort. But I'm going to die trying. I'm going to go down fighting, just like my parents did. And I'm going to do it because it's the right thing to do. Because if Voldemort wins, then it's not just wizards and witches who are going to suffer, but Muggles too, especially Muggles who have any tie to our world. And you are going to be one of them. So…in a sense, I'm doing this for you. And in the end, I doubt you will even utter a word of thanks…

"But you know what? That's all right. Your keeping me alive is thanks enough. You've treated me like scum, but at least you took me in. If you hadn't, I wouldn't be here today, to go fight Voldemort. I would even have gotten the chance. So…thank you." Harry let out the breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding, and then hesitated about what he was going to say next.

Well, what more damage can I do? Besides. They deserve it.

He gave a small snort and laughed at the irony. "You do realize, though, that if you had treated me with a little more respect and courtesy, you would have been happier? If you had treated me with kindness then I wouldn't have done any accidental magic—Or don't you remember what Hagrid said when he came to pick me up? He said that underage witches and wizards only do accidental magic when they're sad or frightened.

"So, like Voldemort, you've created your own worst enemy in me. But I'm not like Voldemort—I can love, at the very least. And even though love is far from what I feel for you, I don't think my mother would have wanted me to abandon you. So…if you ever need me, let me know. You don't deserve it, but if you ever need any help, I at least owe you that much." He fidgeted, then looked over at Aunt Petunia, who made a move as if to say something. When she didn't, he continued.

"You know…I'm only doing this because you are my mother's sister and I don't reckon my parents would want me to be a murderer, or at least indirectly be responsible for yours," said Harry, casting his eyes over their appalled faces one more time. "Well, I have to go now. I'm off to 'save the world'. Thanks for letting me stay."

And with that, Harry turned around and exited the Dursley's house for the last time, with Ron and Hermione beside him.

The three Dursleys gazed after him as he headed out the door with his friends, trunks gliding in the air behind them. They watched as Harry stuck out his right hand, and—BANG! a large purple bus appeared out of nowhere. Petunia shrieked, Dudley dove under the table and Vernon gave a startled yelp, his face turning a rapid shade of puce. And the three terrified Dursleys watched as the trio boarded the bus and disappeared.

For the first time in sixteen years, the house felt empty.

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